Que hora es?

Time.

I am the rider of time. Flowing directly on the wave of some inside joke, the rotten truth of the game. I never wander, as there is an inexorable lean toward the center of the channel, the undeniable. I stupidly stick my head above the water of time from time to time and mistakenly assume I am out of the sea. Vast and unspecific, it’s greatness insurmountable. Hell hath no fury like the unheeding shrug of the heave of time. Passes like you weren’t even there.

So, I ride. And observe. Cherished misery and the heartbreak kid talking on the corner, private now public. Even the panhandlers can’t bear to engage. The whole street is uncomfortable. Grab ass in the park, tequila drunks braying life at the living. The steady drone of singing Vespas approach and fade. Tight lipped conservatives standing unsteadily on a disappearing world. All of it is evident. And it all takes time. Memories and dreams of the future are the food of the soul. My ride  takes me back and forth across the span of me. I see the path before my foot is raised to drop upon it. Often, I am in the middle of a defining experience that comes to fruition and months are connected, forming an oxbow in the route. It can be disconcerting. Generally I feel that these are positive indicators of the correctness of the tiller. Specifically, I realize that there is no tiller and my lack of control for the entire scope of this ocean, this terrible sea, Time. 

Crows talk to me.

I left work in a good mood and started walking home. The 5 block walk was always a nice wind down from all of the energy it takes to do my job as a fitness instructor. Anyhow, it was a nice summer day and I was walking with a bit of a jaunt.
     All of the sudden, I heard the Crows making a lot noise. Now, as a speaker of Crow, I instantly recognized that something was up. Truth is, I can walk within inches of Crows and I recognize their inflections. The ruckus was indicative of something very wrong. My first thought was "Jeez, some cat must be messing with the Crows. Poor asshole cat, he's really getting from those Crows." As I got closer to where the noise was coming from, it intensified.
      As soon as I entered the intersection and started to cross the street, I noticed a heavy set woman in her fifties walking towards me. Not so notable except for the fact that she was stark naked. As in not a stitch. No shoes, no nothing. With the Crows yelling and yelling.
     As soon as she saw me, she started running towards me. Running. As she breaks into her trot towards me, she started yelling "Look in the mirror! Look in the mirror! I love you!" I wasted no time turning on my heel and walking away from her. It was the Crows that made me decide to not stick around. They were making too much noise for this to be okay and I wasn't about to ignore it.
      She began chasing me. So, I picked up pace until I was trotting. All the while, she is trotting behind me with a "slap slap" of bare feet on the pavement and yelling "Look in the mirror!" Thinking quickly, I ran down an unpaved alley and into my apartment. I felt that it was a good idea to call the police non-emergency number and report the crazy naked lady that the Crows were screaming at in my neighborhood, so I did.
      To this day, I am not sure that I didn't call the cops on Mother Nature. I would remain doubtful, if it weren't for the Crows.

What do I want?

In all the years I have thought about publishing a blog (and it has been years, let's hear it for procrastination), I generally hesitated because of a certain sense of not being able to live up to the standards of the established "blogosphere." In a way, all art requires the release of "what has come before." If one cared too mush about the last great production they witnessed and allowed that experience to cloud their vision, they may say, "I'll never be able to pull off what those folks did."
     Well, Fuck That. No more Gatekeeper Mythology. This is what the Russians call Samizdat'. Self-Publishing. I may as well take advantage of not having to rely on someone else to open the door for me. This particular door has been wide open for a long time now.
     My hope is that I will be able to grow and evolve my style through this process. I am aware enough to know that these first few months will probably be looked at further down the road as the learning curve. I'm ready to learn.
     So, I'll open it up. What do you want to read? Stories of my youth? Stories of all the types jobs I've had? My political/spiritual/social opinions? Anecdotes from my day?
     I am taking a risk to allow you in to my creative process, but as an Audience lover, I do want to thrill you. Don't get me wrong though, abuses will not be tolerated.

Have a great day, Jon

The Traffic is killing me.

As some of you may know, I have significant commutes to and from work. On any given day, I am in traffic for at least 3 hours. To and from community centers around the city, I get to drive in nearly every neighborhood. Now, complaining about traffic is not new, nor is it original in any sense. I imagine that the invention of the wheel and horse drawn vehicles was quickly followed by someone bitching about the noise, dust and general idiocy of riders and drivers.


However, as a long term commuter in the world, I have noticed a rising trend. This trend is defined by one character: The Mega Idiot. Here are some behaviors of Mega Idiots so you, too can recognize and avoid these hazardous people.


The Mega Idiot will stop for one pedestrian in a non-marked crosswalk while simultaneously stopping twenty cars behind them. This misplaced sense of politeness is actually much ruder and more dangerous to many more people.


The Mega Idiot will text on their phone in the car. Look it up. There are many statistics from reputable agencies that demonstrate the correlations between drunk driving and texting. Some even place texting above drunk driving in threatening behavior...


I hope that we can start to apply the social pressure that we have already applied to drunk driving. If you were at a party and someone said, "I think drunk driving is bad!" and someone else replied, "Well, I don't know. I drink and drive pretty regularly and nothing happens to me." People within earshot would be mortified.


However, many people and even perhaps, you, feel the need to qualify the reasons for using a cell phone in the car. If we stop accepting this behavior, much as we stopped accepting drunk driving, the roads will be safer and easier to navigate.

Full Disclosure:

I once destroyed a small tree in a median while answering a work phone. Luckily, no one was injured (other than the poor tree, who did nothing to deserve such a death. Except for that time in the nursery when he filched nutrients from the guy next to him, but that was their issue. Not mine.)

It was then that I vowed to never talk on the phone in the car. Most of you that know me, know that I am a crack driver. I am hyper aware and a general rule follower. I speed. That's about it. When I see a texting Mega Idiot in a car, I feel the sword of Damocles hovering over the next ten miles of traffic.


The Mega Idiot rushes stop signs. How many of you have nearly shit yourselves as a car came hurtling seemingly into your lane only to stop at the last possible moment? When did this become a driving habit? People don't even stop at the sign anymore. Add this to texting and it's a wonder there aren't more deaths.


One last note on Mega Idiots. They are pandemic. Old, young, male, female, every race in America. There is not one identifying feature, other than overwhelming stupidity. If you find yourself engaged in Mega Idiot behavior, trust that you have a conscience and remember this blog.


Here's to your safe commute tomorrow and your blessed return home. May you avoid the Mega Idiots for another day and live to tell the tale.


In fact, please tell the tale in the comments. What is your driving day looking like these days? Is it positive or do you have more Mega Idiot behaviors to add?


Oh, on speeding? I NEVER SPEED IN NEIGHBORHOODS. STOPPING DISTANCES ARE INCREASED WITH ADDITIONAL MPH AND I'M NOT INTERESTED IN CRUSHING A CHILD. Only Mega Idiots do that.

Testes, testes...

So, I finally grew the nuts to start a blog. This here is the very first entry that I can look back on with derision in the years to come. Thanks to everyone who supported the idea when I floated it on the FB. This is a test entry. More to follow...